Nobody Knows it But Me
by viva los angeles
Summary: A songfic to the sotitled song. Really short, like 963 words. Really sad as well. On that note, please read!


**A/N: expect a stream of crappy one-shots and songfics like this.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own POTF, or the song "Nobody Knows" sung by Kevin Sharp. I just love them both. And the idea's actually mine for once.**

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Nobody Knows it But Me 

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_I pretend that I'm glad you went away_

_But these four walls close in more every day_

_And I'm dyin' inside_

_And nobody knows it but me_

It was raining. Thunder was booming. Not outside – inside, in a very lonely living room. Phil Diffy sat on the couch staring out the window, every drop of rain catching his eye and stealing a part of his attention away. He followed them all down as they soaked into the grass. The phone rang, and he ignored it. The lights flickered and shut off, and Phil Diffy was left sitting inside, by himself, with no one else around.

_Like a clown I put on a show_

_The pain is real even if nobody knows_

_And I'm cryin' inside_

_And nobody knows it but me_

He always thought he'd be the one to leave, not her. After Keely's dad was convicted of murder and Mandy had to testify, she and Keely had been sent under the Witness Protection Program. They'd had fifteen minutes to wrap up their three-year friendship. Being separated was unbearable, and he wore a mask every day.

At school, he bumped into Owen. "Hey, Phil, what's up?"

It had been two months and everyone else had moved on. Phil had tried; he had tried with everything possible. It wasn't working. "Not much," he said to Owen, opening his locker. The "Phil" neon sign had sputtered out one day, and it seemed to be an omen that nothing was going to get any better. "Want some juice?"

_Why didn't I say the things I needed to say_

_How could I let my angel get away_

_Now my world is tumblin' down_

_I can see it so clearly_

_But you're nowhere around_

Phil had regrets. One night he decided to do a push-up for every time he had wanted to tell Keely how he felt about her, how much he loved her. His mom passed him at about six, and just ignored it. When it was nine o'clock and he was still working, she had to zap him with the Wiz'rd to get him to stop. "Phil, what are you doing?"

"Working out," he answered sadly, with only a pain that he could hear.

Soon after, Phil got his report card. Straight A's. He ran to the phone to call Keely, to ask her how she did, and picked it up to dial her old number. "This number is out of service. Please try…" The generic helpful woman's voice sputtered out when Phil threw the phone against the wall.

_The nights are lonely, the days are so sad_

_And I just keep thinkin' about the love that we had_

_And I'm missing you_

_And nobody knows it but me_

Via met up with Phil in the hall one day, and she reached up to touch his face. He had big bags under his eyes, which were sunken and sad. "Phil, are you okay?"

He pushed her hand away, unable to bear anyone touching him. "Yeah, I just stayed up all night last night writing a paper." He turned to hurry off.

"But we have all the same classes…" her voice trailed off.

In truth, a vast majority of Phil's nights were spent laying on his bed, looking through old packets of photos. On the back of all of them were scribbled notes. Neat, blue handwriting was obviously Phil's, on one, "Look at how he's got his hand on your hip!" accompanied by the tilting red cursive of Keely's commentary "And look at how stupid you look!" He knew looking at these wouldn't help him, and yet he couldn't keep away.

_How blue can I get, you could ask my heart_

_Just like a jugsaw puzzle it's been torn all apart_

_A million words couldn't say just how I feel_

_A million years from now, you know, I'll be loving you still_

He thought carefully about all the close calls they'd had. When she'd kissed him on the cheek, when he'd been jealous of a robot, when _she'd_ been jealous of the mayor's daughter. And all the skyak rides… he wondered how he hadn't ever said what he wanted to say.

One night in particular, as he listened to the ever-present rain crashing down on the roof, he realized he'd never heard it rain in Pickford until Keely left. Doubling over, he felt a shooting pain run up and down his torso. "I can feel my heart breaking," he whispered. It was really hunger, but everything just seemed to have a Keely-connotation.

_The nights are lonely, the days are so sad_

_And I just keep thinkin' about the love that we had_

_And I'm missing you and nobody knows it but me_

Phil got home from school, pushed his backpack off his shoulder and onto the floor with a crash, and pushed past his parents to the stairs. Dashing into his bathroom, he soaked a towel with cold water, wrapped it around his shoulders, and sat on the floor with the door locked. Great quaking sobs rumbled through his body, and over the course of the night his entire family had each tried their hand at getting a response. None had succeeded.

The next morning, he awoke in a puddle of water with a damp, smelly towel wrapped around his shoulders. He promptly arose and dry heaved over the toilet before quietly sneaking into his room. He dressed and departed for school, looking like he had slept a pleasant night.

_The nights are lonely, the days are so sad_

_And I just keep thinkin' about the love that we had_

_Nobody knows it but me_

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**A/N: holy jazz, that was really, really depressing. And I know it's really, really short, but it's a little tiny songfic. If the formatting's screwed up, deal with it - I worked for like two days to get it to show right and it's not workin'. Sorry about the WPP thing being so wierd, I needed to have Keely gone where Phil couldn't contact her, and I didn't want to kill her off.  
**


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